First Steps
by Pudentilla
Summary: a prequel that tells the story of the first kiss - thanks for all the kind words and encouragement for my maiden voyage - you and the other folks who write here are an inspiration. Finally, can I just say that it was just wrong to have so many splendid versions of a lesbian romance, none of which involved dogs. So that's the canon omission I'm responding to.
1. Chapter 1 - A Walk in the Park

Chapter 1 - A Walk in the Park

She had earned that sandwich. Up with the birds, packing her gear and making a lunch, driving to the park and climbing the middling route to the peak. She had an inverse bucket list for this new life: things she had to do before she could revert to her preferred routines - ones that didn't involve exercise in the early morning. A hike in Crarrog Peak park and a picnic with a book after were on the list. "Find out what the locals do and try them - you won't turn Harrogate into London," her brother had advised, "so you have to find out how to be at home in Harrogate. He made her sound like a cosmopolitan princess plopped into the far back of beyond desperate for jazz clubs and tapas bars - which wasn't true at all. She'd gone to Durham for university and learned to love hikes with friends on the weekend. Not camping mind you, but a good stiff hike with some scrambling over rocks was well within her abilities. Of course in Durham, she'd always done the hike with friends - now and then with a lover - once or twice with Richard.

When she got back to the car, she was tired and sweaty, but with some pictures she hoped were good and an appetite. She quickly switched boots for trainers, the gear bag for the picnic bag and wandered into the park in search of a quiet tree with a lovely view. The spot discovered, the blanket spread, the containers with sweets, salad, sandwich and drinks opened and set before her, she stretched out on her side, one arm propping her head up as she read. She became quickly absorbed in her book and the noise of parents and children playing in the park around her fell into a low hum of background noise. She had to make herself stop reading and consciously enjoy the first and second bite of her sandwhich - prosciutto, basil, olive oil, thin slices of tomato and thinner slices of mozzerrella on a ciabatta roll. It was delicious. She set the sandwich down and turned back to the book. Again, quickly absorbed.

She began her summer holiday every year by rereading Dumas' the Count of Monte Cristo. It was the first novel she had ever read. She had been a precocious child and an avid reader, but she was not a fiction reader except for what they made her read at school. David, her brother, her hero, four years older and the font of all wisdom had warned her off story books. "They're not serious. Stick with history." She worked her way through every childrens' biography of prominent Britains by the age of 10 and found herself asking the librarian at the town library if she might read books from the adult section because she had finished all the children's books. The librarian, a bit skeptical looked up the record of books she had checked out and then looked at her, puzzled.

"Well Kate, you have read every piece of children's non-fiction that we lend - but you haven't read a single novel."

"Oh, I know, Miss Mickleby," Kate had answered quite earnestly. "My brother Davey says fiction isn't serious, so I've concentrated on the non-fiction."

"Well, Kate," much as I hate to challenge the great Davey McKenzie, I have to say, in this, I think he's wrong. Completely wrong." But her eyes were twinkling. "Still, I think you're up for a challenge. How about vengence and honor, betrayal and revolution - serious enough for you?"

Kate would never risk offending Miss Mickleby and so had returned home with the Count. She barely moved from her bed for a week till she had finished it. She fell in love with reading and novels reading that week and Dumas stood the test of an annual rereading every summer since.

Every summer, especially this summer in a new town and a new life, began with the Count and his fearsome tragedy and more fearsome revenge. The ritual comforted her as she made the transition from the highly structured, breathless pace of teaching to the seductive and frightening empty space of summer holidays. Eight weeks without papers to grade, tests to make and mark, reports to write. By December the list of things she hoped to accomplish the following July included world peace and a cure for cancer. She'd be in despair at all that she had failed to accomplish every August, if it weren't for the Count. Rereading the book the first week of holidays reset her clock to summer time and quieted the anxious voice that always wanted to know why she hadn't done more.

Giving herself over to the book, tired from the hike, it was no wonder that she had not heard the commotion that dog made, rambling through the park, scattering children, summoning laughter from bystanders. It was not until the Golden, six months old if that, leash trailing, had bounded on to her blanket, snatched her perfect summer sandwich, with only two bites gone, and run off to the tree line - joyously devouring in seconds her very well deserved lunch, meant to be savored over chapters, that she heard his master's voice.

Oddly enough, it was her master's voice as well - well Head Teacher's, anyway. Staring in disbelief at the dog, she heard Caroline's distinctive command voice - the voice that at school reduced hundreds of hormonal youth to shattered silence in seconds - carry to and past the dog with absolutely no effect.

"Caesar, Caesar! Put that down." Caroline Elliot shouted, mortified and furious. The dog finished the sandwich in a swallow, and considering Caroline's anger and the obvious good will of Kate, who had provided the sandwich without even being asked, quickly decided that Kate merited further investigation.

Caesar came running back to her blanket, almost knocking down Kate, who'd risen to her knees and broken into a laugh that moved from rueful to delighted in seconds. He stopped to lick her face quickly and then turned to the rest of picnic containers. The fruit salad looked uninspiring. The hobnobs, however, merited further investigation. Wagging his tail excitedly in her face, he snatched the container with the cookies and ran back to the trees.

"Caesar," are you asking for a trip to the pound? Stop! Sit! Put that down!" He ignored her. "I'm so sorry," Caroline said, flustered and out of breath, as she reached Kate's now disordered and disrupted idyll. "Oh dear, God! Kate! Kate McKenzie! Oh, I am so sorry."

Kate laughed. "Morning, boss." She said, tipping an imaginary cap.

"Oh, Lord, Kate." I am so sorry."

"Caroline, it's too funny. Don't worry." Caroline, looking from Kate to the dog and back again, shook her head and began to laugh. And Caesar, now that Caroline had put off her anger, trotted over to the two women, stopping once again to lick Kate's face.


	2. Chapter 2 - Heel, Caesar

Chapter 2 - Heel, Caesar

They were at O'Doule's - down the street from the Stray, sitting at a picnic table in the garden. Quiche and wine for Caroline. Burger and beer for Kate. Caesar was almost sitting by Caroline. A lunch was, Caroline had assured her, the least she could do. She had assured her that the week before, but she had to run to pick up Lawrence from rugby. She required a raincheck. Kate let Caroline override her protests. Lunch with the boss, probably more fun than a root canal, possibly better than another solitary summer Saturday, begun so early and earnestly.

"I have no control over him." Caroline confessed sheepishly when Caesar had pushed himself up to consider the table's bounty. "You, you miserable cur, are to lie down forthwith and pretend to be good." She tugged the leash down and Caesar, whining a bit complied. "His temperament doesn't seem entirely ruined by the experience of me - which I suppose is a good sign..."

"First dog?" Kate asked.

"How'd you guess?" Caroline deadpanned. They both laughed.

"Did you consider cats?" Kate asked.

"Wasn't my decision." Caroline explained. The puppy showed up mid-December in a crate with a big red bow and a card, "Happy Christmas, boys! Love, Dad."

"Isn't Caesar Dad's problem, then?" Kate asked with a wry grin.

"Dad walked out two weeks after Christmass." Caroline said flatly. "No walkies for him."

"Caroline!" Kate said, shocked. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Are you ok?"

"Better now than I was. Not as good as I will be soon enough." she said briskly. Then, the brave front slipping, "but I wouldn't care to repeat any of this last winter again in any of my next six lifetimes." Kate tilted her head and observed her with a gentle smile.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked.

"Not much to talk about." Caroline replied glumly. "I'm a pathetic cliché - middle aged, jilted wife - there's a new model putting a spring in his step. Boys are appalled and embarassed. I've got this dog, who's rather sweet, really - but more than three handfuls." Her voice trailed off.

"Thought of hiring a trainer?" asked Kate.

"Oh no, Kate." said Caroline sarcastically. "The thought never occured to me." Then she sighed. "God, I'm a snotty bitch. Sorry." A pause and another brittle laugh. "You may find this hard to believe," but I don't get on well with trainers."

"No?" asked Kate with a smile. "Let me guess. They have no interest in answering your rather thoughtful questions about contradictions in their assumptions and instructions."

"That was the first one." laughed Caroline.

"Their notion of advice is nothing but bromides and treats."

"Number two," said Caroline, "and please spell that word in front of the children."

Kate laughed and looked at Caesar in mock alarm. "And last guess - They are condescending about your perfectly laudible sympathy for Caesar and have suggested you're not tough enough and wanted you to use a choke collar."

"Our last and final entry in the dog trainer from hell contest." A pause. "Kate?"

"Yes?" she answered, picking up a chip and staring contentedly at it's perfection.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but I hardly know you. How could you possibly know my dog trainer saga so well." Kate sighed, whether in contemplation of the last chip on her plate or memories of watching Caroline direct the operation of the school like Napoleon commanded armies. A sudden unbidden image of Caroline in heels and academic robes, defeated by a cheerful, clueless puppy, with a stroppy trainer sniping at her, rose unbidden to her mind. She smiled.

"It's not you, Caroline," she lied a bit. "It's the story. My dad was a vet. I've heard the original and all the remakes a hundred timess."

"No." said Caroline flatly.

"Actually," laughed Kate, "yes."

"You know about these beasts?' demanded Caroline as though she were referring to griffons or chimerae come to life.

"A bit," admitted Kate with a laugh.

"You've actually trained a dog, haven't you." accused Caroline.

"One or two." admitted Kate.

"Could you show me? she asked. "I've read at least a dozen books. Watched a hundred videos. I think I've nailed the theoretical material perfectly. Alas, Caesar, " she said, bending down to scratch the puppy under his chin, the execution side has been less successful."

"Of course." Kate replied, warmed by Caroline's display of unguarded affection, even if it wasn't directedd towards her.

"Oh, god, Kate." Caroline said earnestly, her sapphire blue eyes fixing Kate's. "I'd be so grateful. I love to have him up to form, if only to spite John. He's taking no small delight in my failure in the Caesar deparment." she said with a fragile laugh. "I'd give anything to spike that smug, self-satisfied, look... But I digress, she said. Caesar, hearing his name stood again and rested his head on Caroline's thigh. She stroked his head and neck and said quietly. "I owe it to him, really. He's been such a comfort these last few months."

"Lucky Caesar," said Kate, her eyes sad and smile bright as she looked on. But Caroline, her gaze fixed on the puppy, did not notice the contradiction.


	3. Chapter 3 - 2 Steps Forward, 1 Step Back

"An iPad?" asked Kate, observing the dog training gear arrayed on the floor of the boot that Caroline proudly displayed.

"I found some apps that seemed good. I thought you could look them over for me." Kate nodded thoughtfully, willing the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth into retreat. There was a ballistic grade canvas pouch design to slip over a belt with the label "Caesar's treats" embroidered on it. The pouch was pepto pink with bright blue embroidered stars, balls and bones. It was the least elegant thing Kate had ever seen, but Caroline was delighted with it. Again the flash of Caroline rose unbiddden in Kate's imagination: in robes, in the chapel, now girded by this ridiculous pouch, defeated by her dog.

"I bought these for training treats," she said, holding up a bag of freeze dried liver snacks.

"That should do the trick," said Kate judiciously. So would string cheese, she thought. Caroline stared at her suspiciously.

"What?" she asked uncertainly. "Have I done something wrong? Did I forget something?"

"Caroline, it's ok. These are great." soothed Kate. Then she released the smile she had so carefully hidden. Caroline's smile was a reflexive response but almost immediately she realized that the mere sight of Kate's grin had gladdened her. They laughed.

"Caroline," said Kate, "Remind me, to tell the Buddah - next lifetime I want to come back as your dog." They laughed again.

She saw Caesar rise from his bed and dash to the livingroom before she heard the sound of John's car in the drive.

"Caesar," she called, "come!" By the time she had grabbed some treats from a jar on the kitchen island, Caesar had trotted into the kitchen. She led him into family room and put him into a sit. "Stay, Caesar," she commanded and made a show of leaving the treats on the counter. "Boys," she called, "your Dad's here. Look sharp."

Lawrence came bounding down the stairs. "Dad," he shouted as John opened the door and ran to throw his arms around his father.

"Steady on, Lawrence, "I haven't ccome from the North Pole." Lawrence laughed. William entered the kitchen far more quietly.

"Dad," he nodded coolly. John raised an eyebrow but didn't challenge his reserve. Caroline intervened.

"Right," she said, pulling William into a hug. "You promised me 15 minutes of unmitigated moments of fun this weekeend. Remember?"

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned.

"Don't worry, "I left you a note with 5 suggestions on how to do it." She turned to Lawrence and kissed him on the forehead. "You know the commandments. Brush your teeth, wash occasionally. When your eyes involuntarily tear, turn off thine xbox.

"Come on, Caroline." said John in exasperation. "I'm not taking them to Canada."

"Right," she agreed calmly. "Caesar," she called,"come say goodbye to your brothers."

"Oh, god, not the bloody dog," muttered John. Caesar trotted over, tail wagging. "Sit Caessar," Caroline commanded. Caesar sat. John's eyes widened. Lawrence petted the dog, under the chin and on the back, but William hugged him close.

"Now, Mum," Lawrence admonished in a teasing voice. "No spoiling Das Hund. Regular walks, you know the drill."

"Yes, sir," she replied with a mock salute. Now off with the lot of you." And, wonderfully, marvelously, gloriously, Caesar held the stay as she ushered John and the boys to the door. A dozeen unused jibes and barbs seemed to float in the air about his head as he stuttered his goodbye. "Eat them, bastard." she muttered as she closed the door. Then she called to the hero of the hour. "Caesar," she shouted, dropping to her knees and holding out her arms so she could embrace him when he ran to her. "Come here you splendid, glorious, magnificent beast." And he came. At once.

"He held the stay," she repeated in wonder to Kate. It was unbelievable.

"Well, all the work you've been doing with him, Caroline, not so unbelievable." Kate replied, phone between ear and shoulder as she moved through her kitchen, putting items in drawers, rinsing the last odd cup and spoon in the sink, and completing the tidying up routine. She hated coming home to a messy kitchen.

"All the work you've done," Caroline corrected her quickly. "I was just along for the ride, taking notes. I could kiss you. John looked like he'd sucked a lemon. I'll feed myself on that memory for weeks. Oh, I wish I had a picture to show you."

"I'm getting a pretty good picture now, Caroline." Kate said. I'm happy to have contributed." But the image, unbidden, of Caroline in academic robes, girdled by the ridiculous treat pouch, Caesar sitting calmly beside her as she kissed Kate in the center aisle of the school chapel," stopped her.

"Let me buy you lunch," Caroline burbled on, oblivious. "I feel an overwhelming need to celebrate. Meet me at Mason's?"

"Ooh, sorry, no." Kate said, feeling awkward. "Seeing my Dad, today. Take a rain check?" she stuttered.

"Sure. Of course. No problem." Caroline replied, feeling oddly out of sorts. "I'll give you a call. Have a nice visit." and she almost hurried Kate off the phone. They each stared at their mobiles, wondering, "Now what was that all about?"

"Come, on Caesar, said Caroline, as she grabbed his lead, feeling suddenly quite lonely. "It's you and me kid. Let's take a walk." And hearing one of his favorite words, Caesar wagged his tail with unreflecting joy.


	4. Chapter 4 - A Fetching Walk

Chapter 4 - A Fetching Walk

"Fetch?" askeed Caroline. "Really? I have to learn how to play fetch?" Of course, Kate thought, she'd object in principal to the concept of play.

"Do you think you'll be a natural?" asked Kate, eveningly.

"Fair point." laughed Caroline. "But still."

"Caroline, it's how the dog plays. He's been bred for centuries to run after ducks some hunter's shot and bring it back without a single mark. He practically lives to retrieve things."

"And Caesar will find fetch an adequate substitute to fallen waterfowl?" Caroline asked haughtily.

"You tell me." said Kate, responding to the challenge. She dropped the canvas bag she'd been carrying to the ground. Then she pulled her sweatshirt over her head and dropped it in the bag. Caroline saw for the first timee how trim and fit Kate was - long, lean muscles. She could have been the model for a sculptor. She watched as Kate reached in to retrieve a ball. Caesar eyed her expectantly. She held the ball in front of his muzzle. "Want this?" she asked in a playful voice, pulling the hand with the ball quickly to her shoulder and then offering it again, laughing gently as she teased him. Caroline admitted to herself that Caesar was exhibiting real interest.

Kate walked forward a few steps away from the bag, the her hand holding the ball swinging loosely at her hip. Caesar followed closely. She turned and looked at the dog. "Sit, Caesar. Stay." she commanded and then walked another step or two away from the dog. She turned sideways, then in a slow, powerful and graceful motion, threw the ball. She turned quickly to the dog. "Fetch, Caesar." He was gone, seeming to skim over the grass, he moved so quickly. They both watched, smiling.

Suddenly Caroline became anxious. "Will he come back?" she asked nervously.

Kate laughed warmly. "Oh yes. He'll be back. They always come back." At Caroline's puzzled smile, she said, "it's the only way to be sure you'll throw it for him again. Still, a reward wouldn't hurt. Hand me one of those 4 star gourmet treats of yours." Caroline had barely dug one out of her treat pouch on her belt when she heard Caesar charging back. She passed it to Kate, who stood holding her arms wide. "Good boy, Good boy, Caesar." When Caesar reached her, she commanded, "Sit!" and when he sat, she held the treat just above his head, and commanded, "Drop." The trade made, Kate bent down and kissed the top of his head and rubbed his shoulders. "Ooh, you're such a good boy." But he was already sniffing at her hand, looking for the ball.

"Your turn." Kate said holding out the ball to Caroline.

"He's slobbered all over it." Caroline objected.

"Wipe it on your jeans." Kate directed. Caroline thought to object to this as well, to protest she couldn't throw a ball to save her soul. But something stopped her. She didn't want Kate to think she wasn't a good sport. The odd thing, as Caroline well knew, was that she wasn't a good sport at all. But sighing, she held out her hand. Kate had taken pity and wiped the ball on her own jeans, first.

"Look how much pleasure this gives him. Really. All he does is sit and lay and heel and stay for you - this is the one pure, unrestrained joy he has."

"No. Your right. I see. It's just...no, never mind. In for a penny." Then she imitated Kate's example, showing the dog the ball and turning, threw it. Badly. It bounced and rolled much further than it carried on the air. Caesar, did not seem to mind and tore after it as soon as Caroline said, "fetch." As soon as he was off, Kate began to laugh.

"Quick,' get a treat. He'll be back in no time. Like, nanoseconds." And then she hooted with laughter.

"I know you're not laughing at me, Kate," began Caroline primly, "but really..."

Another burst of laughter. "No, No. I am laughing at you. Really. You throw like a girl."

"And just how am I supposed to throw, Miss Queen of Field Day? Like a boy?" Caesar returned and Caroline stopped her rant to put him in a sit, and exchange the ball for the treat. She handed it in all it's slobbered glory to Kate, and wiped her hands and on her jeans.

Kate took it from her, brushed it against her thigh and smiled, saying just before she threw. "No Caroline, you're supposed to throw it like a girl who knows how to throw." And then she rifled the ball into the distance and Caesar, barking once in sheer pleasure, tore after it.

They kept at it for an hour, Kate teaching Caroline how to throw and Caesar, joyfully helping with the lesson. Finally, when Caroline had gotten the hang of it, and even Caesar seemed to be slowing down a bit, Kate called an end to the lessson.

"You'll probably want to ice your shoulder tonight." Kate advised as they walked to the car.

"Yes, we athletes have to maintain the most rigorous training regimes." Caroline agreed with mock solemnity.

Kate's laugh was delightful. "I'll say this for you Dr. Elliot - you're game, you're very game." Caroline wasn't sure exactly what 'game,' meant, but was confident that Kate meant it as a compliment.

"We geriatric bowlers endeavor to please." she smiled primly. Kate stopped as they reached their cars.

"I wouldn't say 'geriatric,' at all Caroline - not with an arm like yours. Then she looked her over, frankly appraising her. "Not even a little."

A sudden shiver ran through Caroline's core and she thought to herself with no ambiguity, "I wish she'd kiss me." Once formed, the thought knocked around her head and then her heart, peeling like a church bell, over and over. But Kate, who had busied herself opening the boot, putting her bag in and retrieving another large bag from Pet Planet, had not noticed anything amiss.

"I bought you a little gift." she said. "Now please don't hate me."

"Kate, why ever would I hate you for buying me a gift." she asked bewildered.

"It's a ball launcher," Kate explained. You get much more mileage out of your throw if you use it. It's for people who throw like girls."

"You sadistic fiend." Caroline shouted in outrage that was half feighned.

"Wait. It gets worse." Kate admitted. "You can snag the ball with it after Caesar drops it and never deal with the slobber."

"Kate McKenzie," Caroline laughed. "I don't believe it. I could shake you. If I had a wet noodle, I'd beat you with it."

"It gets even worse," Kate said.

"Confess now, repent later." Caroline commanded.

"If you go on line you can find fancy versions that are entirely automatic - like those machines they use in tennis classes. You never even touch the ball."

Caroline began to laugh. "Am I that bad?" she demanded. And Kate sadly nodded yes. Caroline laughed again, then giggled, then laughed till tears fell down her cheeks. Kate was quickly infected and they stood at tthee boot of her car like two teenagers for minutess until a family of rather earnest looking hikers, with rucksacks, walking sticks and water bottles stared disapprovingly as they passed.

Kate leaned over to catch her breath and when the family was beyond them screwed up her face in a lemony grimace and stuck out her tongue at them, hands on her hips. This sparked Caroline again and it was some minutes before they had themselves in hand.

"Oh, Caroline." said Kate, leaning down a planting a quick kiss on her forehead, "you are so very game." It was, Caroline thought, something a lover, or a sister, or a friend might do. But she hadn't any of these, so she wasn't sure.


	5. Chapter 5 - Step Into My Parlour

Chapter 5 - Step into my parlour

She stood at the sale rack in Portola, pulling hangers of blouses past her, but not really seeing them. What she was seeing was Caroline's wrist as she slowly pulled it behind her back and over her head to show the motion of throwing a ball like a girl who knows how to throw. What she was feeling in her hands was the denim of the Caroline's jeans as Kate placed a hand on each hip to walk her through the transfer of weight from one leg to the other as she threw the ball. The scent she was breathing was Caroline, warm, the slighest sweat rising, the fragrence from the morning's soap and shampoo, as her body rested against Kate's for a moment before Kate said, "Ok, I've think you've got it. Why don't you give it a try."

"What do you think," Caroline asked, disturbing her unruly train of thoughts. Kate turned around to see her in a cream blouse, tailored, tucked into a black pencil skirt that hit the line above her knees that marked the boundary between safe and alluring. Kate's eyes move from head to toe, and wordless she twirled a finger. Caroline turned around and smiled at her.

"Skirt's good, blouse fits well, the color's a bit blah-blah, unless you've got a jacket for it in mind."

"Thanks," said Caroline. "This is fantastic." She was almost talking to herself. "I'm down a size and I didn't do a damn thing but walk the dog with you. You're like a personal trainer, except you're intelligent and interesting."

"Well," said Kate with a smile, "that beats mud in the eye."

Don't go anywhere," said Caroline, now speaking directly to her. "I've got a few more combinations to ask you about. She smiled again and wandered back to the dressing room in her stocking feet.

"I am going to die." Kate assured herself, resting one hand on the ring of the sale rack to steady herself. "I am going to die on the floor of a upmarket lady's boutique in Harrogate and no autopsy will ever explain the cause. She has no idea, what she's doing to me." Unbidden, an image of Caroline in the dressing room in front of the trifold mirror, shirt hanging open unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of her bra and cleavage and tummy, as she slipped out of the skirt. Kate shook her head to clear the thought. That way madness lies.

"Kate," Caroline called from the dressing room. "Can I ask you a huge favor?"

"Sure," she replied. "What can I do for you?"

"Can you come back here and give me a hand?" Caroline asked. "I having trouble with this zipper."

"They found the body," Kate intoned to herself in a news reader's voice as she walked to the back of the shop, "melted into a puddle in a dressing room in Harrogate." But it had been a very long time since she'd been this excited about something, someone.

* * *

The sound of Lawrence's Xbox and the sight of Caesar, patiently holding his sit, tail wagging, greeted them as Caroline opened the front door. "Hello, Caesar, you handsome devil you. Did you miss me? I missed you. Except when I was looking at shoes." She smiled at Kate, explaining. "I think it best not to lie to him about the important things." She stop and kissed the dog lightly and he rose to follow them into her kitchen. Lawrence?" she called, a question in her voice. Kate followed Caesar and Caroline into the kitchen, where Lawrence was already waiting for them.

"Hullo, Mum. Anything for tea?" Lawrence asked as Caroline and Kate begin piling bags and boxes on the island counter. Hands free, Caroline walked over to the fridge, which Lawrence had opened and leaned into in a Pavlovian response to the mere fact of his own presence in the kitchen.

Caroline extracted him from the fridge and gave him a quick hug. "Lovely to see you too, darling. Also unexpected. Weren't you having dinner with your Dad tonight?"

"We were supposed to but something came up with Judith and Dad said you'd understand." He stopped, recognizing Kate. "Good evening, Miss McKenzie. It's very nice to see you."

Kate smiled. "Lawrence, whenever you find me playing sherpa on one of your mother's shopping expeditions, you may feel free to call me Kate." Kate winked at Lawrence and smiled at Caroline.

"So how long have you been home, then?" asked Caroline, walking through the kitchen, still spotless; peeking into the family room, still tidy; opening the lid of the garbage can, emptied before she left this morning with only one bag of crisps and two tea bags in it now. Caesar's water bowl was full and his dinner bowl was empty.

Kate sense a certain tension in the room, but Lawrence and his mother were clearly dab hands at managing the emotions of the family drama. Still, she should go. It wasn't her place...but she didn't want to.

"A couple of hours. We've been reasonably civiized." Lawrence replied, hoping his mother wouldn't unload on his father in front of his French teacher. Caroline knew what Lawrence was thinking. She had a fair idea of what Kate was thinking too. Part of her did want to unload on John's resplendant, arrogant, selfish, self-indulgent, bloody minded, unrelenting soddedness. But she didn't want to embarrass Lawrence, or Kate. She'd just managed to spend an entire day with Kate without once complaining about John and it felt good. There was another part of her, as well, she suddenly realized, that didn't want Kate to think her the kind of mother who unloaded on her ex-husband to her children. It was more than that, she recognized. It was more than a question of seeming. She didn't want to be that mother anymore. So she smiled.

"So I see, Lieutenant Elliot. Very well done. I see I must raise my expectations if I hope to keep you on your toes." Lawrence blushed a little. "Or I could just tell you," she said smiling at him, "how proud I am of you."

"Just doing my bit, Commander Elliot ma'am, he replied with a broad grin.

"Where's your brother? she asked for the sake of form, knowing what the answer would be.

"Mr. Giggles?" Lawrence asked. "Upstairs, reading existentialists. Unless we're all very lucky and he's started a Solzhenitsyn phase. Something new and exciting about death and despair to hear about when he comes down for tea."

"Speaking of tea, Mum," said Lawrence. Your loyal and commendable crew is dying here. And I hope you note that I won't even begin to exploit Caesar's needs for my benefit, peckish though he looks."

"You'll both survive another few minutes," Carolinee assured him.

"I should go," Kate said, although she really didn't want to. She was enjoying the banter between Lawrence and Caroline.

"Please stay," asked Caroline. "I always treat my sherpa well after a shopping expedition. Just let me get tea sorted."

"William," she called from the bottom of the stairs. "Come say hello to your wonderful mother and then run a few small errands for her."

"What would you say to take out picnic with the dog in the Stray, Caroline asked Lawrence.

Lawrence began negotiating. "I pick the takeaway and I challenge you to a fetch match for pudding naming rights."

Caroline laughed. "What about William? Doesn't he get to pick anything?

"William will eat anything either of us picks and will die a neurotic death trying to pick something all of us will like."

"He's right," said William, entering the kitchen. "I'm a victim of my innate sense of decency and sympathy. You don't know what you've been spared Mr. Muscles. Anything's fine for me, Mum. Good evening, Ms. McKenzie. It's nice to see you."

"Good evening, William." said Kate. "I think you'd better call me Kate if I'm going to be implicated in a pudding picking contest." she paused. "What exactly are they talking about?"

"It's one of their competitive things," William began.

"William, boxes and bags - my dressing room. Lawrence, feed Caesar and get the picnic gear. I'll go put on my trainers, or I have no hope of giving you a run for your money."

"You have no hope, however shod, Mum. You throw like a girl." Said Lawrence cockily. "I'm thinking cotton candy for afters tonight, folks. Just so you know."

As William picked up the boxes and bags from the counter, he continued his explanation to Kate. "Whoever throws the ball the farthest gets to choose the pudding. Mum never wins."

"Because she throws like a girl?" asked Kate.

"Precisely." said William. "Occasionally, I win."

"Freak winds, sudden hailstorms, natural interventions that disrupt my pattern of domination." explained Lawrence.

"But Muscle Man is usually the winner," conceded William, heading up the stairs. I hope you have the stomach for some disgustingly sweet juvenile pudding because the odds are in his favor."

"Don't I get to play?" asked Kate sweeetly. Lawrence stopped in his tracks.

"You don't throw like a girl." he stated flatly.

"Lawrence," demanded Caroline, "how could you possibly know that?"

"The lesson on Sport. She knew..." he began.

"Kate knew..." Caroline interrupted.

"Sorry." he reddened, then took a breath and began again, reminding Kate very much of his mother's determination when challenged "Kate knew what the different football positions actually do."

Caroline turned to Kate. "They do different things?" she asked in mock bewilderment.

Kate laughed. "Yes, Caroline, they actually do. It's not a general melee after the ball. That's rugby." Lawrence laughed.

"And you know what these things are?" Caroline asked with exaggerated incredulity.

"She does," said Lawrence. And she understands hows different player's strengths in position can lead to different tactical choices on the field."

"And you can talk about it in French?" Kate blushed. Lawrence answered for her again.

"Yes, she's...Kate's brilliant at it. I don't even like football and it was a great lesson." then Lawrence blushed.

Kate turned on him with mock severity. "You don't even like football?" she asked. "What - what, are you a Liberal Democrat or something?" Lawrence laughed outloud. Caroline found it oddly pleasing to hear Lawrence praise Kate.

"Do that lesson on rugby and it'd be perfect." he said.

"French aren't so keen on rugby." observed Kate.

"Much of European geopolitical history becomes clear to me now, said Caroline, digging through her purse till she found her iPhone. "I'm intrigued though, that you'd extrapolate from a French lesson to athletic ability."

"It's a truth universally acknowledged, Mum," explained William, returning to the kitchen, "that a girl who can talk sport can play sport."

"The things you learn in your own kitchen," said Caroline. "Here, Lieutenant," she said, handing her mobile to Lawrence. "Go order us dinner, whilst William packs up the car." Then she handed the car keys to William. "We can plan our strategy, before they return," she explained to Kate in a stage whisper that easily carried to the driveway and family rooms.

* * *

Kate leaned back on the picnic blanket and stared happily at the darkening sky. Having relegated the icecream cone to the hall of pleasant memories, she could properly concentrate on the conversation.

"How's your ice cream, William, asked Kate.

"Excellent, Kate." said William. "A lovely change from cotton candy.

"How about you, Caroline?" she asked. Unbidden an image of Caroline lying with her head in Kate's lap, smiling brilliantly at her, suddenly filled her imagination, sparking an almost overwhelming and utterly frustrating sense of desire.

"Delicious. Pistachio gelato is a favorite I haven't had the chance to enjoy in ages. Thanks so much much for treating. You really shouldn't have."

"Wanted to." Kate replied. "Such a throw - well that needs to be honored. Isn't that right Lawrence."

Lawrence, still working on his chocolate Sundae, glumly nodded. "I had no idea you were the distraction, Kate. I thought you were the ringer and was concentrating on your throw so much, Mum's caught me completely flat-footed." He turned to Caroline. "It really was a corker, Mum." Kate found herself surprised at how deeply pleased she was to hear Caroline praised by her son. A smear of pistachio sat just above the corner of Caroline's lips. Kate knew she would think about that spot again before she fell asleep that night.


	6. Chapter 6 - Begins With a Single Step

"Oh, Kate," said Caroline, finding the phone buried in the mysterious recesses of her bag just before it went to messages. "I'm glad you called. You're on my list of today."

"In a good way, or a bad way?" asked Kate, who knew how ruthless Caroline could be about items on her todo list."

Now Caroline laughed. "Entirely in a good way, I assure you. I've been thinking. The term's going to start again next week."

"That would be a big sigh you're hearing on my end of the line, Caroline." said Kate.

"I know," said Caroline. "I've had such a wonderful vacation this year." Caroline had a very musical voice, and when she felt most vulnerable, she often spoke in a rolling alto register, unaware of how sexy it made her sound. She was feeling vulnerable now. Relieved, if truth be told, that she could ask Kate by phone, rather than in person. "You've been such a good friend to me and I don't have a lot of friends."

There was a pause that was within seconds of becoming awkward when Kate rescued her - "You say that often enough Caroline, so it must be true. But I have no earthly idea why or how it might be so."

"Yes, " said Caroline, "well, let's leave that mystery for future generations. I'm calling to see if you'd want to have a nice night out with me, my treat, to celebrate - oh I don't know, such a great summer..the dog...anything." Her voice trailed off.

"Caroline," said Kate, with some exasperation. "I'm calling. This is my phone call. And I'm calling to take you out for your birthday. You cannot hijack my phone call for your purposes, however delightful they are.

"Well of course I can." laughed Caroline. "Besides, it's not my birthday. Besides more, I've told you how I feel about celebrating my birthday."

"Yes, you have." conceded Kate. "But that's the problem, isn't it?" she asked.

"I'm not following," admitted Caroline.

"Well," explained Kate. "I love my birthday. I love making a big do of it. I can hardly expect you to participate in the week of Kate's birthday observed if I can't do something for yours.."

"Don't be daft," Caroline began.

"I'm not, interrupted Kate. "I've thought about it a lot and it seems to me that the problem is - well, I don't mean to sound critical Caroline, but you're family has made a total hash of your birthday, haven't they.

Caroline burst out laughing. "True enough." She said. "but Kate, you mustn't be afraid to tell me what you really think."

On her end, Kate grinned a little, and continued pacing as she talked. "But it's true and although that's between you and them, it's starting to interfere with my planning for my birthday, which everyone agrees is always a splendid affair that is a pleasure to celebrate."

"Oh, well." said Caroline with mock seriousness. Then we do have a problem."

"Yes, Kate concurred immediately. "And I see that none of this is your fault and I've thought a lot about it and I thought the easiest thing to do would be to give you a new birthday. Thursday is, I think the obvious date."

"Kate," protested Caroline. "I have a birthday. And why Thursday?"

"Yes, yes," agreed Kate. "You do have a birthday, but it's not working out for you. So let's just set a new one and celebrate it properly. Also, Thursday, Opera North's doing Romeo and Juliet in Leeds. It's the end of their summer opera series. I've never been to the Grand Theater, but everyone says it's marvelous."

"It is." said Caroline. "Gorgeous. You feel like Disraeli will make an entrance in the Royal box at any moment. But, Opera?" her voice betrayed her nerves."

"Yes, we'll get gussied up and go out for a grand dinner and then to the opera. It will be brilliant."

"I'm not much of an opera buff," Caroline hesitated, "actually, not one at all." But Kate's enthusiasm over road her. "Not a problem. You don't have to be an opera afficiando for Romeo and Juliet, Caroline. You already know the plot and we can talk about it at dinner. It's Gounod. You'll love it."

Caroline had her doubts. Dinner and a nice movie had been the extent of her ambitions. But Kate was so eager and so excited to do it.

"You're right." She agreed firmly. "Its will be brilliant. But if you're picking the shows, I'm picking the restaurant."

"Oh good." said Kate, obviously relieved. "I don't know the restaurants in Leeds well enough to make a good choice."

"Fortunately," assured Caroline, you have stumbled into one of my longest suits. I know from restaurants."

"But it's my treat, Caroline." warned Kate. "This is a birthday dinner and it needs to be done right.

"Really, Kate," Caroline objected. "You don't need to..."

"I know." said Kate. "I don't need to. I want to. So let me do this."

They hung up. Then each look at her phone. "What was that all about?" she wondered, nervous and excited.

"What a lovely evening." said Kate as she turned off the car.

"Come in for a drink?" Caroline asked.

"I shouldn't, its so late," Kate temporized, leaning her head back against the head rest, sighing with contentment. Eyes closed, he began to hum Juliet's waltz, almost to herself.

"Caroline watched her for a moment and sighed. She looked so happy, so unguarded. Caroline had never felt unguarded in her life. Kate's eyes opened.

"What?" she asked.

"The song. It's so pretty. What was she saying?

"I know. Kate answered. "I love that aria. Well, to be fair, so does the half of the planet that has two functional brain cells." She smiled. "Let me see, "Je veux vivre Dans le rêve qui m'enivre Ce jour encor! -I want to live this day again in the the dream which intoxicates me."

"Beautiful." said Caroline. "Today, anyway, I feel the same. Or at least, I don't want it to end yet." They were quiet for awhile.

"Oh, come on in. You can explain the opera to me again. I'll stick to dinner, a subject on which I could write rhapsodies if you asked.

"Good thing," Kate observed, "since you picked the restaurant."

"Only fair," you picked the music. "It was wonderful, I could tell that much."

"Caroline it was Romeo and Juliet, you understood that opera perfectly."

Caroline chuckled a deep, alto chuckle that sent shivers through Kate's core. Kate leaned forward to rest her head on her fingers, gripping the top of the steering wheel. "Starting me on a gateway opera drug?" Caroline teased.

"Caroline," Kate said abruptly. She turned her head to stare at her. Caroline stopped her prattling abruptly and stared back at her. "What? Is everything ok?" she sounded like a girl in school, afraid she'd made a mistake.

"Yes. No. Yes." She sat up and reached out with her right hand, taking Caroline's left, twining her fingers through hers, pulling her hand up to her face, stopping herself before she turned it to kiss the hollow of Caroline's wrist, letting it fall back to Caroline's thigh, but not removing her own hand. Caroline suddenly took a very deep breath.

"Caroline, look at you. You're beautiful." Kate sighed slowly.

"Well, you're looking mighty good yourself, Miss McKenzie." Caroline interrupted. The looked at each other, their outfits and hair and makeup a bit tired at the end of a long and perfect evening, but still stunning, silks and satins in summer pastels. Caroline's hair down, a halo like an angel's in a medieval manuscript. Kate's hair, after a summer of pony tails and hasty french clips, pulled up high, leaving only two long curls, one falling loosely against each ear trailing down just beneath her chin and highlighting the length of a neck that Caroline had only tonight realized was so exquisitely long and inviting.

Kate was dressed in a tulip petal yellow that glistened against her dark skin. Caroline was in a sky blue, looking like the morning, revealing enough cleavage and calf to leave Kate catching her breath for half the evening. Caroline, watching her now, the tune from Juliet's waltz whispering in a corner of her mind felt a desire to kiss the length of Kate's neck from earlobe to nape overwhelm her. She dropped her eyes, shyly.

"Don't interrupt." Kate continued tersely. "Let me finish this." Caroline just nodded, staring at Kate's hand on hers.

"I'm not quite sure how this happened." Kate said, "but I find myself falling for you. And I feel that I've been very dishonest with you. I never meant to..."

"Dishonest? Are you with someone?" Caroline asked in the smallest of voices. "I thought you were divorced."

"No. I mean yes, I am, but that was years ago. No, I mean that I've not told you about me - that I'm gay, that I want to be with women. I'm sorry, I'm not usually - I'm not ever- so closeted with someone I spend time with - a friend - but - you're my boss. This summer when the thing with Caesar - it never occurred to me that I'd fall so hard for you and now, I feel like I'm proceeding on false pretenses."

"Look at us, Caroline. Tonight feels like a date to me. I wanted it to be a date. We're dressed to the nines, we went to a wonderful romantic restaurant and then out for an opera. But you wanted a night out too. Girlfriends don't usually act like that, do they? I mean straight girlfriends. I'd love for tonight to be a date. But I know you're not... It's getting very hard for me to pretend I'm not feeling what I'm feeling when I'm with you.

"You're gay?" asked Caroline suddenly, in the matter of fact voice she'd use to ask Kate if she were a vegetarian.

"Yes, that's what I'm trying to..." Kate began to respond.

"You've been with women, before?" Caroline persisted.

"Well not legions..." Kate answered.

"No, of course not, " said Caroline absentmindedly. "No, what I'm asking, is have you made love with women before?"

"Yes. Yes, I have." said Kate suddenly embarrassed and bewildered by the turn in the conversation.

"So you know what you're doing, in the sex department, I mean. I get to the kiss in my mind and the ripping off the clothes... But then it get's a bit imprecise. I'm not sure of the execution. But you are? You know what part goes where and when and how?

"Well yes," said Kate, flustered. "I mean, Caroline, it's not hard, it's not higher math. But I can say - not boasting you know, but I do know how to make a girl feel happy."

"Higher math is not my challenge." said Caroline. "People are. People I want to be with. I imagine kissing you - well to be frank, first I imagine you kissing me and then I feel like something's going to explode inside me. Which is wonderful. But then... Caroline's voice sounded like she wanted to cry.

"Wait." interrupted Kate. "You want me to kiss you?"

"Yes." said Caroline simply. "I've been wanting it for weeks. I feel like I've been throwing myself at you hoping something would spark and then it would be on you to figure out what to do. Which is to be fair, pretty damned cowardly of me. I mean, Kate, asking you into my dressing room while I'm trying on clothes - how shameless is that? But you actually really do know what to do... her voice trailed off."

"I do." Kate said. "Caroline, you do too." And she lifted Caroline's hand to her lips and then slowly kissed the back of her fingers.

"It's just, I didn't want it to be sad or sloppy or...I wanted it to be absolutely splendid for you and I wasn't sure I knew what to do to make it splendid and I hate feeling like a fool. I was afraid I'd disappoint you - be clumsy or stiff or I don't know, just not good at it." Caroline said. She drew a breath and said in a steadier voice, "It shouldn't be all on you. But you actually know what to do."

"I do," said Kate, feeling like she wanted cry and to sing hymns at the same time. "Caroline, lean back." she directed. And Caroline did, relieved that Kate had finally taken charge of her. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips and breathed out slowly. "Now open your eyes." She did. "Open your mouth, just a bit." Kate said. And Caroline did. "Now watch." said Kate.

She raised her hand to Caroline's face, brushing her thumb lightly over her lips. Caroline, her eyes fixed on Kate's, slipped the tip of her tongue past the gate of her lips to touch Kate's thumb as it slipped by.

Kate shivered at the sensation, at the weight of Caroline's desire for. She leaned in slowly till finally her lips met Caroline's.

Then Caroline, eyes wide open, returned the kiss. Kate shuddered slowly and mightily and Caroline felt a knot untangle in heart. She exhaled slowly.

"My first kiss." she thought to herself. After that, her thoughts lent themselves to expression in forms other than words.


End file.
